Round 6

As the poker's heavy head connected with something solid, a low male grunt and crashing against the counter reverberated through the kitchen hallway, sending Jeane's heart racing. The air vibrated with tension, every creak of the old house making her jump, like the darkness itself was pressing in to conceal the intruder. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the poker, her eyes fixed on the brass lamp, now a jagged shadow on the wall. Behind her, through the hallway, the sound of something large being moved in the kitchen grew louder - drawer handles rattling, wood scraping on tile. She backed up until her shoulders hit the wall by the fireplace, her mind racing with the implications. The Force moved silently through the living room, checking the windows - they were locked, no one was outside anymore. The house was small enough that if someone was in the kitchen, she could be cornered.